Her Green Knight

A Proper Princess

The room buzzed with excitement as Samuel raved about the princess's appearance. "Did you see those hazel eyes and that golden-brown hair, Cauis? She looks exactly like a princess from the storybooks," he gushed.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. The princess's beauty was undeniable, but it wasn't something to obsess over. "Of course, she's beautiful. She's lived a life where she's never had to work a day, never lifted a finger. She's had access to the best of everything. It's hardly surprising. If anything, with all that's been given to her, I expected her to look prettier."

Samuel shot me a glare, "Well, someone's in a mood. You could at least appreciate the fact that she looks like a proper princess."

In my mind, I dismissed the notion of a "proper princess." A true princess would be aware of the struggles of her people, would strive to make things better. But no, she was content in her castle, enjoying the benefits without a care for the responsibilities that come with her title.

As the door opened and the Princess entered, Samuel immediately stammered an apology, "Oh, Princess, I'm sorry if Caius's words were—"

She interrupted him with a calm smile, "No need to apologize, Samuel. He is right. I've lived a life of privilege, and my appearance is just a result of that. Nothing to fuss over."

I scoffed. "Wow, the Princess is humble too."

In response, the Princess, with a genuine smile, spoke up, "Please, call me Evelina or Eve. The title of Princess is not one I wear with pride. It is just a formality, not who I am." As she looked towards me, her hazel eyes carried a subtle plea.

Samuel grinned and said, "Sure thing, Eve."

However, when she turned her gaze to me, I maintained a stern expression. "I am sticking with Princess," I said, my tone unwavering. It wasn't out of mere stubbornness; rather, it was a conscious decision to keep her accountable. Using her title served as a reminder, a constant reflection of who she was and the harsh reality of her father's cruelty. I wanted her to confront the weight of her responsibilities and acknowledge the role she played in the kingdom.

Her expression shifted, a subtle mix of defeat and sadness appearing in her hazel eyes. However, the mood swiftly transformed into determination. Looking directly at me, she admitted, "Caius, earlier were right. I might be naive, but I don't want to stay that way. Show me the outside world. Let me witness firsthand the chaos my father has caused." At that moment, I noticed how she said my name, deliberately, making sure she got it right before speaking. Her gaze lingered on me, seeking approval, and I couldn't help but want to give it to her.

With caution, Samuel voiced his concerns, saying,"It might be a lot for you to grasp, especially right now. Maybe you should reconsider."

I stepped in, stopping his objection. "She can make her own decisions. If this is what she wants, let her have it," I stated, and Evelina nodded appreciatively, giving me a small, grateful smile.

"Okay, I can take you then," Samuel reassured, looking at her. "If it gets too much, you can leave. I've got you." Evelina nodded in agreement.

As they prepared to leave, my mind couldn't help but wander. Evelina's golden-brown hair cascaded down her shoulders in loose waves, and the simplicity of the clothes Samuel had provided accentuated her features. Despite the plain attire, there was an undeniable elegance to her, and, in the privacy of my thoughts, I couldn't deny her beauty. I was kidding myself with the earlier comment of how she could be prettier, she was undoubtedly the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.

"Wait." I took off my hoodie and handed it to her. "Cover yourself. Someone might notice you're not from around here," I explained. There was a moment of confusion in Evelina's eyes, but it quickly softened as she said, "Thank you." The unspoken understanding lingered, acknowledging the need for caution as she stepped into the unfamiliar world beyond the palace.

Observing Evelina and Samuel as they left, doubts gnawed at me. My mind involuntarily drifted to a cryptic prophecy that had been spread throughout history. Was I foolish to put faith in a prophecy, to believe that a seemingly sheltered and naive princess held the key to unraveling the web of oppression that her father had woven?

The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, mirroring the uncertainty that clouded my judgment. I couldn't escape the nagging feeling that perhaps I was grasping at straws. Just wanting to believe a narrative because I was so desperate for a savior.

As the room hummed with the energy of rebellion, my thoughts shifted to Evelina once again. A knot tightened in my stomach. What if my aspirations for her were misplaced? What if she ventured into the outside world and didn't care about the struggles of the common folk? Her  upbringing, cocooned in the opulence of the palace, could have created a mindset aligned with her father's, indifferent to the suffering beyond the palace gates.

I envisioned her stepping into the gritty reality of the kingdom, hazel eyes glazing over with apathy. The thought that she might dismiss the hardships of the people as inconsequential gnawed at me. Was I leading her into the lion's den, only to discover that the lioness within her bore the same fangs as her father?

Alternatively, the prospect haunted me that the harsh truths of the outside world might overwhelm Evelina. What if she recoiled from the stark realities, retreating into the safety of her privileged castle? 

A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I shook my head. I couldn't afford to entertain the possibility of failure.  Prophecies were meant to be true,  and I was determined to carve a path toward fulfilling this one.

Feeling the weight of my responsibilities, I made my way to the bathroom. Leaning against the bathroom counter, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. 

The weariness in my eyes reflected not only the physical toll of the struggles I had faced but also my mental fatigue. The scars on my hands, earned through countless battles, seemed to tell a story of their own—a narrative of sacrifice and endurance.

Yet, as I stared at myself, a voice echoed in my mind, reminding me that the hardships I faced were a mere whisper compared to the collective struggles of everyday citizens.

 Turning away from the mirror, my gaze fell upon a sight that momentarily disrupted my contemplation. There, neatly folded on the toilet seat, lay the silk dress Evelina had worn earlier. The luxurious fabric, a stark contrast to the surroundings of the bathroom, seemed  out of place.

As I took hold of Evelina's silk dress, an unexpected surge of anger rippled through me. The very fabric in my hands represented a life of comfort and seclusion, a life that shielded her from the cruelties perpetrated by her own father.

The frustration within me reached a boiling point as I wondered to myself how could she be so oblivious to the cries of her people, so unchallenged by the weight of her title?

I knew, on some level, that providing empathy toward her situation was crucial. Understanding the isolation, the confinement within the palace walls, should have softened my judgment.

It was hard because her world seemed so distant from the grim reality that had shaped my own existence. The struggles, the battles fought, the scars earned—these were the very fabric of my being. Evelina, on the other hand, appeared untouched, cocooned in luxury.

Unable to contain the emotions within me, I crumbled the dress into a ball and discarded it into the trash. The soft rustle of the fabric as it met the bin echoed the harsh reality of our future—the clash between luxury and oppression, privilege and suffering. 

Leaving the bathroom behind, I retreated to the solitude of my own room. I sought comfort in a worn out photograph that rested on my nightstand. I hesitated for a moment before picking it up, fingers tracing the edges as if trying to recapture the fleeting memories captured within. The image depicted my family—a distant past, a life that now seemed like a hazy dream. 

As I stared at the photograph, a sense of determination stirred within me. The losses I had endured, the sacrifices made, all fueled my  fight for a better future. I couldn't bear to lose any more, couldn't bear to see others suffer at the hands of tyranny and oppression.

"I need a win," I whispered to the silent room, the words laden with desperation and longing. "I need something to hold onto, something to believe in."  I hoped, against all odds, that Evelina would be the key to unlocking a brighter future for us all. The prophecy held the promise of change, and only she had the power to fulfill it.